


Dreaming (Christmas Fic bc lets get fuckin festive)

by princedave



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-05 04:02:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12786537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princedave/pseuds/princedave
Summary: Based on a writing prompt I read about characters meeting in their dreams, but not in real life. Very innocent and pure, pls read to ur children by the fireplace u won't regret it probably





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a long day, a lot of technophobic dumbasses wandering in asking me why their laptop wasn’t working, only for me to discover it was just out of charge. Sometimes you got to wonder how these people are even alive.   
I settle myself down on my bed, still fully dressed on the unmade sheets. It’s cold as fuck, even in the apartment.   
I contemplate dicking around online for a while, but given how I can barely keep my eyes open, I figure a nap might be my best bet.  
I lay back, hazily staring at the dark 17:23 sky through my window, curtains too sheer to obscure the blazing streetlights bellow. This is my life at 27.   
I’m standing in an unfamiliar street. The pavements gleam white, though spattered with puddles and crowds of people. That’s what I realise next, how many damn people there are, dressed in fur and leather, weirdly patterned scarves and impractical heeled shoes. There’s kids screaming and whining to their portly, boujee mothers, complaining that they want to go home, or their feet hurt, or they didn’t get what they wanted from the toy store. I’m not really a huge fan of kids.   
The crowd feels beyond claustrophobic, but before I completely lose it and panic, I see a familiar franchise amongst the long strip of unfamiliar emporiums and boutiques. A fairly small, yet comforting Starbucks. 

I head over to it, why? I’m not sure. Maybe out of desperation for something I knew, or maybe out of sudden craving for something caffeinated. Probably the latter. 

It’s a stark contrast in the coffee shop to the busy street outside. The double glazed windows muffle the bratty children and their stressed out parents, and there’s barely anyone in here, besides a pair of women and their sleeping baby in a stroller.  
“You okay?”  
I turn around, breathless, to look at the counter. There’s a guy there, staring at me with what I guess is probably concern, but I’m more focused on the features of his face rather than the expression. He’s pretty. Pretty eyes, pretty lips, pretty hair. Even in a bright green apron he carries an air of grace. I didn’t even realise guys could be this beautiful.   
“Sir?”  
I swallow, shaking my head to myself and meeting his eyes. Blue.   
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” I stammer, approaching the counter. “That crowd out there was just pretty wild.”   
He nods, seemingly reassured and laughs.   
“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy this time of year. There’s some fancier place down the street though that just opened, so that keeps them out of here.”  
He wanders over to the till, looking at me expectantly.   
“Can I get you anything?”  
I look up at the menu board overhead. I’ll confess, I don’t go to Starbucks all that often. When I was dating AA a couple years ago, she used to drag me in here every week so she could take pictures of iced coffee for her Instagram. She used some pretty nice filters on those photos, but I still never really got it.   
“Uh… a honey macchiato?”  
It has honey and coffee in it. That works.   
He nods, and I pay before he takes the order down and grabs a cup.  
“Can I take a name?” He says, biting the cap off a sharpie.  
“Sollux.”   
I’m expecting a raised eyebrow or some kind of confused reaction at that. People usually misspell and mispronounce my name, though he doesn’t even look up. Just writes it, the way it’s meant to be spelled, and sets about making the drink. That was pleasantly surprising.   
“So what’s your name?” I ask.  
“Eridan.” He smiles, pouring steamed milk into the paper cup. He has this really focused expression etched onto his face as he paints a lattice of syrup over the frothed milk. He hands it to me with a glimmer of pride in his eyes.   
“Here, enjoy.”  
I take the cup from him, our hands brushing for a second. I’m hoping I don’t blush, or if I do, I hope he doesn’t notice.  
“Thanks.” I grin, and he’s smiling back. I take a sip of the sweet smelling coffee.

I’m awoken by the sound of my neighbour screaming at her boyfriend downstairs.   
The sky outside my window tells me it’s early morning, not quite light, not quite dark. Just a deep blue dawn, shrouded by rainclouds that never actually rain. I dreamt about a beautiful boy is a beautiful town. This is my reality at 27.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yooo im uploading this at school lets hope it doesn’t fuck up™

The day was slow given the lack of customers. It was the kind of day that really wears you down at the time, but that you’ll forget within a few weeks.  
The door was open when I came home, meaning Cro actually wasn’t out drinking for once. If my brother could get his shit together and move out already that would be pretty great, given he’s 30 years old.  
He’s nowhere to be seen downstairs, which is great because I don’t feel like hauling his passed out ass off the couch and dragging him to his room myself. I sit down, nestling into the corner of the sofa and closing my eyes- just for a moment. I hate naps, they disorientate the hell out of me, but I’m exhausted as fuck, so I figure this one time can be exception to my no-napping rule.  
   
There’s a glass double door in front of me, chipping white paint pains flecked with dirt and a general aura of neglect. I’ve never been in such a rundown area, the vacant streets behind me cracked and smothered by cigarette butts, while streetlights flicker cheaply in the rain.  
   
Now aware of the rain, I push open the door in front of me, not particularly excited about the weather messing up my hair. It’s an electronics store inside.  
I look around at the stands of phones and tablets, the polished counters reflecting fluorescent lights infinitely. There’s something strangely comforting about this store, something I can’t quite identify.  
“Can I help you?”  
I jump slightly at the voice, being too dazed to notice that there were in fact other people in here. I turn around to see who the voice belongs to, a slightly irritated expression on my face.  
But I soften when I see him.  
The owner of the voice is a boy, about my age, with messy, dark hair and slim face. I blink when I notice his eyes. One brown, one blue. They’re staring straight back at me when I remember he’s asked me a question.  
“Uh, yeah sure,” I look down at his name badge. “Sollux. I was hoping to uh…” I wonder what I’m actually doing in here when I remember I smashed my phone a couple days ago. “Get a new phone? Mine’s…. Deceased.”  
He nods, smirking at that last word.  
“What kind were you looking for?”  
I figure I’ll just get the same as my old one, and he gets it while I wait by the counter. He’s fast, and comes back within a minute.  
“May I ask how your old phone came to be deceased, as you put it?” He asks, doing something with the till.  
“Kind of stupid really,” I mumble, coherently enough for him to hear. “I thought I was putting it into my pocket but I ended up just dropping it on the floor and… yeah.”  
He shakes his head, a hint of laughter in his face.  
“Don’t worry, I’ve done the same thing. Like. Three times.”  
It’s a small comfort that I’m grateful for. I smile at him, and I feel as though I’ve seen him before. Somewhere else. But I shake my head.  
“Thanks.” I just say.  
He smiles and nods.  
“Can I get your name and email address before you go? I can email your receipt that way.”  
“Sure, yeah, it’s Eridan-“  
   
And then Cro woke me up because he was hungry.


	3. Chapter 3

“Sollux, can you maybe hurry the fuck up?”  
I roll my eyes at him. Christmas shopping with Karkat really wasn’t what I wanted to spend day off doing.   
It’s not that I didn’t like him, he was my best friend. But Jesus Christ can he be annoying.   
“What’s the rush, it’s only 13:24.”  
He glares at me.  
“First of all, can’t you just say twenty past one like a normal person? And second of all, yeah, it’s already the afternoon and I still have to get something for Dave. You are SEVERELY underestimating how long it’s going to take to find the PERFECT thing.”  
“KK, he’s literally going to like anything coming from you. He loves you.”  
This seems to calm him down a bit as Karkat’s face goes from being aggressive PTA mother at her kid’s baseball game, to chilled-out church mother at a bake sale. Still annoying, but better. He sighs.  
“Okay, okay, you’re right. Look, I’m sorry. I’m stressed right now.” He looks down at his hands, weighed down by countless shopping bags, then looks down at my own, remarkably empty hands. “So are you going to buy anything today or?”  
It’s my turn to sigh.  
“Listen, maybe you can go take a look at stuff for Dave and I’ll try and find something for you. Maybe.”  
This idea seems to excite him, as he grins, eerily.   
“That’s actually a good idea!” he enthuses, and I try not to overanalyse why he threw the word ‘actually’ into that sentence. “Okay so, how about we go off for an hour, and we meet back here at the Starbucks?”  
I seize up slightly when he says ‘Starbucks’, remembering the dream from last week, but I shake it off and nod.   
“Sounds great.”  
And with that, he turns around and allows himself to be swallowed up by the crowd. Bye.

I wander through various stores for a while, picking out different items and feeling pretty good about how productive I’m being today. Of course, I still have to wrap everything up, but that’s a problem for a different day. I look down at my watch, and see it’s 14:16, so I decide to head to Starbucks and wait for Karkat in there.  
It’s gotten busier in the past 52 minutes, and I’m not gonna lie, it makes me fairly nervous. I hate large groups of people, and the streets are packed.   
Around me, people push and shove and glare as though I’m the only force obscuring their determined passage. I can feel my heart in my throat, as I desperately push myself through the crowd.   
I practically throw myself into the safety of the coffee-franchise, thankful that I’m not actually having a panic attack. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest rather than my throat now, and I start to relax into the dark wood surroundings. It’s fairly empty I come to realise, aside from two women with a sleeping baby in a pushchair. I pause when I see them. Slightly unnerved by a sense of déjà vu. I turn around to look at the counter.  
He’s there. Staring at me, though not with the concern he had in my dream, but bemused, searchingly. I swallow.   
“Hey.”  
He seems taken aback by that, and I wonder if I’m dreaming right now, and my subconscious is thrown off by me changing how the dream goes. But I’m awake. I know I am.   
“Have we met before?” He asks, and now I’m taken aback.   
I see thousands of customers every week. I can’t remember all of them. But I know I’d remember him. I’d remember when the first time I saw him was, but that was only in my mind. His name tag confirms though, that this is the boy from my dream. This is Eridan.  
Before I can answer him, I feel arms wrapping around my waist.  
“So what did you get me?”  
It’s Karkat, obviously, and even though I knew we agreed to meet here, I’m surprised. He wasn’t part of the dream.   
He looks at Eridan, and walks past me.  
“Can we get two hot chocolates please?”  
At the order, Eridan seems to snap out of whatever puzzled stupor he was in, and smiles down at Karkat.  
“Yeah, uh, can I take a name please?”  
He’s talking to Karkat, but he’s looking at me.  
“Yeah, It’s Karkat, and don’t tell me it’s an interesting name because it isn’t.”  
I look down at the floor as Eridan makes the order, Karkat babbling on to me about whatever crap he’s bought everyone.  
“You know, I really don’t know why Aradia even hangs out with us anymore, it’s so awkward between you two,” he’s saying. Eridan finishes making the drinks and places them on the side, rushing to attend two new customers waiting in line.   
Karkat goes to pick up the cups, then frowns, handing me one.   
“You come here often?” He says before taking a sip.  
“What?”   
“The barista. I didn’t tell him your name but he wrote it on the cup anyway.”   
And I freeze. Because he’s right. This stranger of my dreams has spelled my name perfectly and neatly, onto the cup.


	4. Chapter 4

I’m busy making two coffee-free iced coffees, but I keep looking up at him. If it’s him, he’ll ask how I know his name. If it’s not, he’ll ask what I wrote on the cup and why. Or he’ll just do nothing and I’ll never see him again.   
I can’t help but be slightly (very) irritated when he sits with his back to me, and all I can see is his short, rude friend with the uninteresting name. I finish making the sugary swill for the other two customers, and they leave, so I can focus on Sollux. It has to be him. It has to.   
His shoulders barely move so I assume he’s not talking much, just listening to whatever pointless ramble his friend is spouting. I hope that’s his friend. I frown. Maybe they’re together.   
I don’t know why I feel so defeated at that prospect.  
I’m tapping my fingers against the counter, strangely high on the anticipation that he’ll come back over and talk to me, figure out why I dreamt of him. Rationally, I know maybe I just saw him on the street, or he was a past customer, but something in me hopes for more than that. Reason rips the fun out of everything.  
It’s been about 20 minutes of me staring inconspicuously at the duo, between swiftly crafting absurd coffee orders for anyone who dares interrupt my stalking.  
Eventually though, they get up, and I swallow, ready to tell him how I knew his name, and ask him if he knows me. But he just walks out.   
I blink. And there’s an old woman in front of me asking for a latte ‘with no weird add-ons’, so I can’t run after him. Not that I could anyway. But I’d still like the option.   
I peer out the window as he walks past, feeling… sadness, I think. Disappointed. I don’t expect him to turn around, but he does. And he stands still for a moment, looking at me. He doesn’t show any hint of emotion. Maybe he thinks I’m crazy. I would, if a random barista just KNEW my name. I turn away from the window, though. The old woman needs me more, right now. I sigh pulling out my phone to check the time I have left on my shift. 3 more damn hours. Frustrated, I thrust my phone back into my pocket, or at least I would have, if I had not completely missed where my pocket was. It was like watching in slow motion as the device fell to the floor with a loud thunk. Great, I thought. Just fucking great.


	5. Chapter 5

To say I’m confused is an understatement. Karkat and I walk around the highstreets for a couple more hours, before he drives me back to my apartment at 17:13. I don’t think I spoke much after the Starbucks incident.   
As soon as I get into my apartment, I head to my computer, mind set purely on finding out who Eridan is, how he knows my name, and why I know him.   
His name strikes me as unusual, so I figure I’ll have no trouble finding him on Facebook without a surname, but nothing shows up. I opt to try just searching the name via Google, but the only results I get are for ‘Eridanos, the river of Hades’.   
What kind of millennial just isn’t on social media?  
I sigh, defeated and slump down in my chair. It hadn’t occurred to me just how tired I was until I let my mind wander from Eridan.   
As much as I’d love to take a nap right now, I have work I the morning, and I can’t risk waking up in the middle of the night unable to get back to sleep. Instead, I decide I’ll give Aradia a call, see if I can make things the way they used to be, instead of awkward. We broke up 4 months ago, and we haven’t got round to being friends again.   
I press down on the call button on my phone after tapping her contact name, and I wait, half expecting her not to even be there.  
It rings once.  
It rings twice.  
It rings three times-  
“Hello?”  
I jump, when she answers, nearly falling off my chair completely. I cough, trying to compose myself.  
“Hey, AA. It’s uh, Sollux.”  
“Yeah, uh, I know. Caller ID.”  
Ha, of course. Idiot.   
“So um, how’s it going?” I ask, trying to make my voice sound relaxed rather than nervous. This was probably a bad idea.  
“Yeah, pretty good thanks!” She replies. She sounds fairly chipper which is a good sign I guess. “Just got back from hanging out with Jade.”  
Oh yeah, I forgot she was dating her.  
“Cool, cool.”  
“What about you?”  
I swallow. Part of me wants to tell her all I did was go shopping with Karkat, the other part of me wants someone to talk to about all this dream bullshit. Fuck it, I go with option two.  
“I’m okay, but a little weirded out I guess.”  
“Oh? How come?”  
And I tell her. I tell her about how I dreamed about some guy last week, a guy I’d never met. I tell her about how today, that dream was nearly re-enacted perfectly. I tell her that even though I never gave him my name, he knew it, as though we’d met before. He even spelled it right.   
I’m aware I’ve been speaking for a while, and I’m scared that she’s going to be pissy that I’ve called her out of nowhere to discuss my life problems. I sure would be. Thankfully, Aradia is completely unlike me, in every factor and feature.  
“That sounds so crazy!” She exclaims once I’m done rambling, and even though she’s not here, I can see her wide-eyed expression. She pauses. “But so romantic!”  
“What?” I splutter, because sure, I’ll happily admit that Eridan’s attractive and seems nice enough, but Jesus, it seems a stretch to assume anything romantic would come of this.  
“You met him in a dream, despite never knowing of him in real life, and he just HAPPENS to know your name too? It’s destiny, probably! The stars have fated you together!”  
I cringe at that. Aradia’s really into ~spirituality~ and a lot of crap about fortune. You can bet that she owns a Ouija board and tarot cards.   
She seems to sense my scepticism through the phone, as she starts spouting a bunch of ‘evidence’ for fate, and something about Romeo and Juliet probably. I zone out for a while, until she asks me a question.  
“So? What are you gonna do now?”  
I raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”  
“You have to try and dream of him again! So you know what you have to do next!”  
I laugh. “The fuck? What I have to do next?”  
“Yeah, in order to be with him. Achieve the telos!”  
“I don’t think you’re using that word right-“  
“It’s important!” I hear her exclaim, then sigh. “Sollux, you need to stop letting things happen to you, and make them happen yourself. The stars can only do so much before they get sick of your bullshit attitude. …This could make you so happy. Don’t you want that?”  
I pause. It’s true I haven’t felt happy for a fairly long time, not since I figured nothing in my life would ever improve and the future was hopeless. Here was something though. Regardless of whether fate or destiny really exists, it was one hell of a coincidence for today to happen.   
“I don’t know how to dream of him again though.”  
A pause.   
“If you want to dream of him, then I’m sure destiny will allow it.”   
She sounds happy, then. Though she yawns afterwards, and I figure it might be an idea to let her go to sleep.  
“I hope so,” I say to her, softly. “Thanks, AA.”  
“You’re welcome.” She replies, sleepily, and I say goodnight to her before hanging up the phone.   
She’s probably right, I muse. Probably knows what she’s talking about with this. And as I’m hauling myself into bed, I smile, wondering if tonight I’ll get to dream the answers to my life.


	6. Chapter 6

I’d never been in this part of town, but Cro said that they sell phones for the cheapest down here and I’m fairly low on funds. Something about this place feels vaguely familiar, but I don’t believe I really trust my subconscious to make assumptions about anything anymore. I still feel embarrassed about the other day.   
I gingerly push open the heavy glass panel door in front of me, the smeared glass and dirt-crusted panes a stark contrast to the gleaming store inside.   
I feel like part of me has been here before.   
I hold my old phone in my pocket, mournfully stroking its shattered screen every now and then. I’m sorry I dropped you so carelessly.   
I look at the various products available for sale on the counter, rolling my eyes at some teenager who’s whining to their dad about getting an iPad for Christmas.   
It occurs to me that Christmas is only a week away. I’m spending it alone with Cro, who’s only interested in drinking all of December 25th away. I love family.  
“You need any help there, sir?”  
There’s a blonde girl standing in front of me, looking expectantly at me. Her name tag states that her name is ‘Roxy, how can I help you?’ and I show her my destroyed phone remains.   
She smiles at me, and helps me with getting a replacement model. She takes a pretty long time going through all of the information about the phone that I already know.   
“If you could just come over to the register here, Sollux can sell you that right away.”  
I feel my eyes widen.  
And it’s the same guy, I see when I turn around.   
It’s not a very common name.   
I’m a little nervous, given what happened two days ago. I approach the counter sheepishly, my eyes strictly cast down to the floor.  
I can feel him looking at me.   
“Uh, hey.” I murmur, placing the phone on the counter.   
“Hey.” He responds, and his tone is far lighter and friendlier than I had expected, given the situation.  
He scans the phone, and I pay for it silently, still felling my heart beating hard and fast in my chest.  
He hands me the receipt, though doesn’t let go when I try to take it from him. I manage to look at him.  
“Look, I think we should talk.” He says, quietly. He isn’t meeting my gaze. “Like, I’m working until half seven tonight, you got time to meet somewhere then?”  
Swallowing, I nod quickly.   
“Sure. I got time. Where abouts?”  
“The ice rink? It’s fairly public that time of night so you won’t need to worry about me being some kind of creep.”  
I raise my eyebrows at him quizzically, and I can tell by his face he regrets adding that last part. Still, I smile at him.  
“Yeah, okay. That way I can prove I’m not a creep either.”  
He smiles back at me, and I take my receipt, slowly wandering out of the store and on to the streets. There aren’t many people about, and the air is cold, but in the nice way, the kind that promises snow.  
And even though I have to kill the next three hours at home with Cro, I don’t feel so bad about it for once.   
Because there’s something exciting happening tonight. I can tell.


	7. Chapter 7

The pavements are frosted by a sheer veil of snowfall by the time I lock up the store. Snowflakes still whirring around the atmosphere before making their final descent to the ground, joining countless other flakes in their construction of white carpet.   
There are a fair few people around at the ice rink. Groups of friends, couples, families with young children making their clumsy debut on ice skates. And he’s there too, sitting on a bench, and not wearing a coat.  
“You really should dress warmer,” I chuckle, sauntering over to him. He looks up at me and smiles.  
“Yeah, well. I’m not a huge fan of coats.”  
Rolling my eyes, I sit next to him and breathe deeply.   
“So how do you know my name?” I ask, though part of me already has a feeling of how he knows.  
“It’ll sound crazy if I tell you.”  
“It’ll sound crazy when I tell you how I know you.”  
And he smiles slightly at that.   
“You know me?”  
“Yeah. I uh, I had a dream nearly two weeks ago.”  
His eyes widen, and that’s all the reassurance he needs before he goes into how he had a dream about coming into the electronics store and met me, then got spooked when he saw me in Starbucks the other day.   
Similarly, I tell him my dream of our first meeting, and watch as his puzzled expression turns thoughtful for a moment.   
“So… What now?” He asks, and he still seems bewildered, anyone would be, but there’s something of a hopeful gleam in his eyes. I can’t help but smile at it.  
“Well, it’s certainly weird. And random. And confusing.” I go on, essentially listing every doubt I have about this. “But maybe it means something.” I pause. “As forward as it sounds, there’s something about you that keeps me thinking about you and maybe…” I swallow. “Maybe we could keep seeing each other and see what happens.”  
For a moment, I’m horrified that maybe that was too much too soon, though when I look at him, he’s smiling at me.  
“I’d like that.” He says. I think I can see the beginnings of a blush creeping onto his face. “I’d really like that a lot.”  
And it doesn’t feel like this is essentially a stranger I’m sat next to. With the snowfall picking up, I take my coat off to drape over him, despite his protests that ‘really, it’s okay you don’t have to- …okay this feels a lot better’, and the serene streetlights softly glowing around us, I’m starting to think maybe it’s okay that this is my life, at 27.


End file.
